


A Perfectly Valid Dare

by anokaba, kitty_fic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art, Auror Trainee Draco Malfoy, Auror Trainee Harry Potter, Auror Training, Aurors, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Christmas, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Explicit Consent, Fighting, Frottage, Good Draco Malfoy, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Lace Panties, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW Art, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Praise Kink, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Riding, Rimming, Smut, Snark, Spanking, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22093192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anokaba/pseuds/anokaba, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/pseuds/kitty_fic
Summary: “It’s a perfectly valid dare,” Pansy says, and somehow she looks like she actually believes what she says.“I amnotdoing that,” Draco insists. He really has no idea when daring someone to wank in Harry Potter’s bed became a perfectly valid dare?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 52
Kudos: 1437
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keyflight790](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/gifts).



> Happy Holidays keyflight!! <3 It was an absolute delight to create for you! 
> 
> Author's Notes: I loved all of your prompts and I tried to work in many of your requests... but in the end I’m not sure how successful I was. Despite that, I do truly hope what I’ve come up with pleases you. <3 
> 
> It was a pleasure to collab with a superbly talented artist who created some fabulous art for you as well!
> 
> I’d also like to send huge thanks to my betas/cheerleaders! MUCH LOVE to jiang who essentially held my hand for the three months that I worked on this and without whom it would not be written! Thanks to Crowry who helped point me in the right direction and supplied some A+ dialogue and plot inspiration! And more thanks to Vaysh who helped polish it all and made it so much better with her final edits! <3

Draco’s friends are the absolute _worst_. 

“It’s a perfectly valid dare,” Pansy says, and somehow she looks like she actually believes what she says. 

“I am _not_ doing that,” Draco insists. He has no idea when daring someone to wank in Harry Potter’s bed became a perfectly valid dare?

“That’s the dare. Take it or leave it,” Blaise says as he leans back and inspects his nails like he’s already bored by this conversation.

Draco is reeling. His friends have clearly lost their minds. There’s no other explanation. There’s no way he can do what they’ve asked, but there’s also no way he can refuse them.

Not for the first time Draco thinks that their long-standing game of truth or dare may be getting out of hand, but they’ve been playing this game since Hogwarts and Draco’s never once backed down from a dare. 

He’s proven over the years that he is a force to be reckoned with. Blaise and Pansy have certainly been subject to some of Draco’s most sinister dares. He shouldn't be surprised that they've teamed up against him now. 

But this time they’ve taken things too far... even for Slytherins. 

They’ve done some insane things in the name of the game, but this one takes the bloody biscuit. It’s Harry Potter, for fuck’s sake. Of course this is no random dare. His friends know how Draco feels. And you’d think that after everything, the hero of the wizarding world should be off limits.

In a fit of desperation he looks to Millicent and Greg for back-up, even though he knows their drunk arses will be of absolutely no help. 

“Unless of course you want to forfeit?” Blaise asks innocently, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“A Malfoy does no such thing,” he promises. Draco would rather die than admit defeat. 

“Then you’ll do it?” Pansy asks. 

Draco scowls, He hates that they’ve outmanoeuvred him.

He runs one finger along the rim of his empty glass and takes a moment to look around the room, taking in the holiday decorations. There are a myriad of Christmas trees all lit with fairy lights and decorated with delicate baubles. Wreaths of greenery and holly hang around the room. 

Everyone is dressed in their Holiday best, but his fellow Auror Trainees are easy to spot scattered amongst the guests. They’re all wearing their official Ministry robes and Draco counts himself lucky to be among them. 

Blaise takes a slow sip from his glass. “It’s now or never. Potter’s distracted.”

“You won’t find a better opportunity.” Pansy nods towards the table where Harry and his friends are sitting. 

When Draco’s eyes land on Harry again, he realizes that somewhere along the line Potter has become _Harry_ in Draco’s mind — even if he’s never allowed himself to utter the name aloud.

Harry cuts a fine figure. He’s grown taller and his shoulders have broadened from Auror training. His green eyes shine bright behind his glasses.

Draco frowns. Because no matter how far he’s come since he found himself on the wrong side in the war, he knows that this is the _one_ person he will never have a chance with.

“There’s hardly any risk,” Blaise says. 

They're right, of course. Harry's smiling, surrounded by his friends as he accepts a fresh drink from Longbottom’s hand. 

“Fuck it,” Draco says, resigned. “I’ll do it.” He’s not drunk enough for this. 

Someone hands him another drink, and he downs it. Never mind _their_ sanity; now he’s questioning his own since he’s actually agreeing to go along with this dare. 

He slams his glass on the table. Blaise is right; it’s now or never.

It takes some finesse to navigate his escape from the Ministry ballroom — especially when Head Auror Robards catches him, clasping his hand and patting him heartily on the back just before Draco reaches the double doors. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate all Robards has done for him — or that he minds his congratulations on Draco’s fine performance in the Auror Academy — but his mind is currently predisposed with thoughts of how he’s going to get into Harry’s bed without being seen. 

Finally, Draco manages to escape Robards’ firm handshake. He wishes his boss a Happy Christmas, and with one last glance to make sure Harry is still where he’s supposed to be, Draco slips out of the room and makes his way to the training dorms.

Getting into the Auror Trainee Centre is easy enough. He lives there, after all. The Auror trainees all work together, study together, and eat together. They share a kitchen and the community living spaces, but they each have their own room and ensuite. It’s twenty rooms, all lined up down one long hallway, with Draco’s own room separated from Harry’s by only two doors.

When he opens the door to the common room, he feels the wards tingle against his skin. Thankfully he’s alone. Everyone else is at the party so there’s no one to see him approach Harry’s room. 

It takes a quick _Alohomora_ to unlock Harry’s door. With one last glance down the hallway, he reaches out for the doorknob. A spike of nerves runs up his spine, but he forces it down. He wonders if Harry’s set a ward on his room, but when nothing happens, Draco turns the knob and slips inside. 

He leaves the room dark, casting only the tiniest _Lumos_ to light his way.

His heart beats too fast as he kicks off his shoes and sits on the edge of the bed. With a deep breath, he runs his hands over the soft bedspread and lies back. His head rests on Harry’s pillow. He can’t believe he’s doing this. His fingers clench in the quilted fabric of the bedspread and Draco wishes he’d had one more drink. He could really use some liquid courage right about now.

“Fuck. This is insane,” Draco whispers to himself. “What the bloody hell am I doing?”

It occurs to him that he could stop this madness. He doesn’t actually have to go through with it. It’s not like anyone is holding a wand to his head. 

Draco turns his face into the pillow and catches the clean, earthy scent of Harry’s shampoo. A wave of arousal rushes through him. It's a visceral reminder of his completely inappropriate feelings for Potter.

He takes another deep breath, closes his eyes, and tries to relax into the comfort of the bed. He can imagine Harry lying here and it strikes him again that this is not just any bed… but HarryfuckingPotter’s bed — the bed that Harry sleeps in, the bed that Harry wanks in.

And deep down he knows that’s why he won’t change his mind. This is about so much more than a simple dare. 

He cups himself through his robes and finds he is already half hard. Apparently his body never got the memo that this is crazy. 

With his cock quickly filling and arousal flooding his veins, Draco knows he’s going to see this through to the end. 

He thumbs open the buttons of his trousers and lets his fingers glide over soft silk. It’s not something he indulges in every day, but occasionally he likes the feeling of silk and lace against his skin, and the holidays are the perfect time for a little indulgence. 

He slides his hand inside the soft material and is met by heat and hardness. He bites back a moan as he feathers his fingers lightly up the length of his cock. 

It’s still relatively early and Harry seemed suitably distracted at the Ministry Ball, but Draco knows he’ll have to be fast if he’s going to pull this off before his fellow trainees return.

He shimmies his hips, pulls his trousers down, and lets his knees fall further apart. His cock plumps up even more, straining against the thin material of the silken knickers. 

He lifts his head to watch his dick strain upward until the tip pushes past the top waistband. He shoves the knickers lower, hissing between his teeth as the fabric brushes over the head of his erection. 

He’s already leaking; precome wetting the silky soft material. He pulls his foreskin back and swipes his thumb across the sensitive head as he plays with the wetness there. His cock throbs at the touch, his nerve endings light up with pleasure as he teases a finger around the tip and spreads the slick around.

He sprawls, legs splayed wide and bites back a moan as he wraps one hand tight around his dick. With a firm grip, he twists his fist down his length while he lets his other hand drift down to cup his balls. 

Draco gasps, arching against Harry’s mattress as he strokes his cock from tip to base and back again. He feels the pleasure build. His head drops back and his eyes fall closed as he bucks up into his hand. 

He thinks he’s getting close when a sound from the hallway makes his hand go still.

“Please don’t open. Please don’t open,” he begs the door in a low whisper, his cock still hard and straining in his grip.

But the door squeaks slowly open, and Draco holds his breath. “Fuck.” He shuffles up onto his elbows and covers his cock as best he can with one hand while he yanks at his trousers, hoping to hide his straining erection. His cock throbs under his touch, undeterred.

Harry stumbles into the room. His elbow bangs against the armoire as he slips off his outer robes and shoves his shoes into a corner.

Harry turns, and for a moment he just stares dumbly at Draco. He's still rubbing his sore elbow.

“What are you doing here?” Draco sits up, defenses rising. He feels his face pinch up in a sneer like it does anytime he feels vulnerable. He tries again to cover himself by adjusting his shirt tails, but with little success. He’s embarrassed to be caught and he hates that his emotions always show all over his face — especially when it comes to Harry.

“What am _I_ doing here?” Harry asks. He waves his hands at his bed and Draco in it. “That’s my bed.”

”Are you taking the piss?” He sounds angry in addition to being drunk, and Draco shifts uncomfortably. He grips his prick through his clothes like it's a lifeline. 

Harry gestures at his four-poster bed again. “What are _you_ doing here?” 

“I’d think that’s obvious, even for you. Surely you’ve seen a cock before, Potter?” Draco sneers.

“I’ve had enough of your stupid games.” Harry says, the muscles in his jaw bunched.

“My games are actually very smart, much like myself. Other people, on the other hand..."

“If you’re going to insult me while wanking in my bed, then surely you can do better than that."

Draco raises his chin and lifts his shoulders in a half shrug.

”This is my room. That’s my fucking bed,” Harry repeats unnecessarily.

Draco _hates_ to admit Harry has a point. So in a fit of madness, he decides he absolutely _won’t_ admit it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he huffs. 

In a wild bid to appear unaffected — perhaps that last drink hit him harder than he thought — he lounges back on Harry’s pillow, his shirt riding up again as he palms his cock. His erection has flagged a bit, but it’s still a healthy handful. He pushes the lace down around his balls, letting his cock grow under Harry’s intense gaze.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll ask you to please leave me to it. I dare say I’ve got matters in hand here.” He wraps his fist around his cock and lets his knees fall wide apart again as he strokes himself.

“Are you crazy?” Harry looks a little crazed himself. “I _know_ that you know this isn’t your room.” There’s a wild look in his eyes as he gestures to the red bed curtains. 

Having this insane conversation with Harry, his prick still in his hand, Draco considers the fact that he really is a little more drunk than he realized; but he’s in too deep to change tactics now.

“You’re unfuckingbelievable.” Harry shakes his head. “After all this time, is this really still fun for you? Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than try to get a rise out of me?”

Draco takes in the bright eyes and focused energy that is all Harry Potter. There’s anger there, for sure, but Draco's seen something else underneath the fury. Harry's gaze keeps straying to Draco's cock, pink and flushed and pushing out the top of Draco’s fist. 

Yes, Harry's angry, but if the bulge in his trousers is any indication, he’s also turned on.

“It would appear that I’m fully capable of getting a rise out of you.” Draco nods towards the thick line of Harry’s erection pressing against his fly. 

“You’re mental.” Harry shakes his head. “You’re off your head.”

“Come on, Potter. Admit it.” Draco runs a finger over the vein of his cock, thumbing the silky-soft top as it throbs to life again. “You like watching me stroke myself.” He tightens his grip and gives one long, luxurious stroke from bottom to top, squeezing the tip just as he likes. 

Harry stares, hands clenched in tight fists.

“You’re getting off on it,” Draco crows. ”Underneath that perfect hero facade, you’re as horny as anyone.” Emboldened by Harry’s obvious interest and, if Draco’s being honest, a little bit by his anger too, he rucks his shirt up and runs a hand over his stomach. “Oh, you can’t fool me. It’s obvious now that you're just as much of a pervert as I am.”

“I’m not the one wanking in someone else’s bed.” Harry's voice is thick.

“But you're the one getting off on watching me,” Draco says, smugly. He strokes himself again and Harry’s cock gives a hearty twitch against the seam of his trousers in response.

“Stop this! You’re driving me mental.” 

It all happens so fast that Draco’s alcohol-addled brain can’t keep up, but somehow he ends up with his arms pinned over his head with The Savior of the Wizarding World braced above him. Apparently Harry’s decided that if Draco won’t listen to reason, then he’ll physically make him. 

“Getting a little rough, Potter?“ Draco struggles against him, but Harry’s grip is unyielding. 

”Damn it, Malfoy.” The grip on Draco’s wrist is even tighter than before.

I didn’t know you were into that.” Draco arches his brow in mock surprise. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re impossible.” Harry’s gaze drops to Draco’s lips and seems to get stuck there. 

In what may be the most surprising moment of his life, Draco swears Harry looks like he’s not sure if he wants to hit or kiss him. 

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Harry asks. 

Draco tries to free his arms and this time Harry lets him. Harry moves his hands to Draco’s robes instead. 

Draco rubs at the sore spot on his wrist. “Why don’t you make me?” He raises one knee, pressing it softly between Harry’s legs.

Harry’s confusion is evident on his face, yet his cock is harder than ever pressed up against Draco’s leg. It doesn’t seem to mind Draco’s smart mouth as much as Harry does.

“Admit it Potter, you want me. Why fight it?” 

“If you don’t shut up... I swear.” Harry growls. “I can think of much better uses for that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Oh, you think my mouth’s pretty do you?” Draco feels like the bedroom around him is spinning.

“There’s quite a bit of you that’s pretty.” Harry's eyes travel down Draco’s body. “It’s just a shame you’re such a wanker.” 

They’re closer than before and Harry’s grip on Draco’s robes goes so tight that his knuckles turn white. 

Draco hooks one leg over Harry’s hip, guiding him down until their hips align. With their bodies pressed flush and Harry’s fierce gaze focused on Draco, the world seems to stop spinning. 

The tension between them increases and if something doesn’t give soon, Draco's going to lose his bloody mind — whatever’s left of it. 

In another moment of madness — or maybe genius — he reaches out and grabs a fistful of Harry’s robes, and pulls him down into a harsh kiss. 

The biting-bruising kiss builds with the enormity of their shared history and holds the same intensity of their previous years of fighting. Then Harry plunges his tongue inside Draco’s mouth and the kiss turns softer with a hunger so profound it leaves Draco feeling dizzy. 

He works open Harry’s trousers. With every tug of his hands Harry’s cock stiffens even more until it’s pushing through the slit of his boxers. 

When his cock springs free, Harry shoves Draco’s hand away and his hips surge forward. He grabs Draco’s arse, forcing them closer still and Draco’s hips thrust up against Harry’s.

Draco moves Harry’s shirt up, fingers roaming over Harry's back and down beneath the loose material of his trousers. He cups the curve of Harry's arse. The way Harry’s breath hitches at his touch is wonderful.

Harry grips Draco’s waist, hands sliding under the loosened waistband of his trousers. His fingers move over lace and silk as he cups Draco’s arse with both hands.

“Fuck, Draco, what are you wearing?” Harry rocks his hips, cock grinding against Draco’s in a slow glide with nothing but soft lace between them. 

Draco shoves Harry up, still kissing him as he clambers up onto his lap, knees spread wide around Harry’s strong thighs.

He grinds his arse down against Harry’s cock until he groans, and Draco deepens their kiss until the sounds he’s making disappear into Draco’s mouth.

Draco pulls back from the kiss, committing to memory Harry's flush cheeks, his rumpled clothes, and his lips red from the force of their kisses.

Harry leans up to get at Draco’s lips again, and Draco sinks back into his embrace. His eyes close as he savours the kiss and his fingers slide through Harry’s soft hair.

Harry tugs at the edge of Draco’s knickers until his cock slips free of the silky material once again. Draco takes a deep breath as their cocks slide against one another, a shudder coursing through him at the contact. 

“Fuuuck,” Draco moans, his back arching when Harry reaches down and takes them both in hand. He strokes down both of their lengths with a firm grip until Draco’s foreskin pulls back to expose the leaking head of his cock. His thumb drifts over Draco’s slit spreading wetness around the head of his cock before his fingers drift lower to graze against Draco’s balls.

They kiss some more, cocks touching, and Draco can taste the smooth, fruity champagne on Harry’s tongue. He licks deeper, chasing the heady flavor.

He wonders how much they will both remember in the morning, and once that thought takes root, Draco finds he can’t push it away. This isn’t right. This isn’t how this is supposed to be. Whenever he’d allowed himself to imagine kissing Harry Potter — which wasn’t often given the circumstances — them being together was never a drunken grope. There’s no way he can go through with this unless he knows that Harry’s in his right mind and he isn’t just touching Draco because he’s had too much to drink.

Wait,” Draco mumbles against the touch of Harry’s mouth. 

Harry ignores him, hips still shifting against Draco, soft lips seeking Draco’s again. 

“Damnit, fuck.” 

“S’that what you want?” Harry asks, biting at Draco’s bottom lip. 

“Potter… how many drinks have you had?”

“I don’t know.” Harry’s lips move to Draco’s neck, words whispered against his skin. “A lot… probably.”

“Potter.” Draco shoves Harry back when he leans in for another kiss.

“Call me Harry.” Harry nuzzles behind Draco’s ear. 

“Please,” Draco breathes. “I can’t do this,” he says, but his hands still have a tight grip on Harry’s robes.

“It’s really not that hard… ‘s just a name.” Harry’s thumb skims Draco’s nipple as he lines soft kiss after soft kiss down his neck.

They’re having two different conversations and Draco drops his hands to his sides.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Potter —” The amount of self control it takes him to climb off of Harry’s lap is physically painful.

“Where are you going?” Harry reaches for him, but Draco pulls farther away, gripping his own thighs in an effort to _not_ reach for Harry again. He takes a steadying breath. 

Despite everything he’s done in his life, Draco’s tried really bloody hard to become a better person and fuck it all… he’s not going to take advantage of anyone — especially not Harry Potter. That’s bloody not going to happen.

“Why’d you stop?” Harry asks. 

“You obviously think I haven’t got any morals at all,” Draco says. 

“What?” The confused look on Harry’s face is too fucking endearing.

Draco sits up, spine straight and shoulders squared. “I’m not going to take advantage of you while you’re drunk.”

“Not like you could,” Harry mumbles.

“I could what?” Draco asks.

“You really think you’re taking advantage of me?” Harry laughs. “Believe me when I tell you that there’s no way you could do that.”

Draco doesn’t see what’s so funny. “You’re drunk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, so are you! You’re not taking advantage of me,” Harry insists. “I’m fully on board here, in case you haven’t noticed.” 

He gestures to his cock, still hard and attractively flushed, standing proud against the dark hair of his groin, and Draco whimpers he wants it so much.

“Come here. Let me show you how willing I am.” Harry grabs for Draco’s hand again, but Draco pulls his wand instead.

It’s obvious from the look in Harry’s eyes that he thinks Draco’s going to hex him. There was certainly a time when Draco would not have hesitated to do so, but those times are long past. Now he merely casts a sobering charm instead — first on Harry, then on himself.

The look of discomfort on Harry’s face is almost like he was hexed. Harry sways and closes his eyes as he falls back on the pillows.

“Fucking hell, Draco.” He grips his head and looks miserable as the side-effects of the charm hit them both hard. 

“Sorry, I know that charm is like a bucket of ice water.” Draco winces. “But I can’t do this… not unless I know you want it.” The _as much as I do_ is left unsaid.

Draco plops back on the bed next to Harry, hands pressed to his eyes. He wonders how he got here: laid bare in his frilly knickers with a grumpy Harry Potter lying next to him.

He considers getting up — to leave the room with as much of his dignity in place as possible — when Harry breaks the silence.

“Damnit, I really hate that spell,” Harry groans. “But I think the worst of it’s passed.”

He turns back to the bed, and Draco feels even more exposed with his crumpled shirt pushed out of the way, and lacy knickers starkly white against the red of Harry’s sheets.

Draco stares up at the canopy of Harry’s bed and feels the enormity of what’s happened between them settle around him. “I should probably go.” 

“I wish you’d stay.”

Draco looks at Harry and dares to hope. 

“If you wanted to know if I want this, you could have just asked,” Harry says with a grin. “But even after that horrible charm, I’m still lying here wanting you more than I’ve wanted most things in my life.”

Draco wishes he could hate Harry just a little bit — the way he bares himself and his desires so easily with one simple statement — but those days are in the past as well.

Harry rolls towards him and Draco allows himself to be pulled into Harry’s arms as their lips meet again. He tugs Draco’s bottom lip between his teeth, tongue darting out to soothe the sting.

His grip is gentle. His fingers ghost over Draco’s back as he pulls back to whisper, “Do _you_ still want to do this?”

“Mmhmm,” Draco says, lips pressing to Harry’s again and again. He doesn’t think he can properly express how much he _wants_ this.

The kiss grows deeper as Harry’s tongue sweeps into Draco’s mouth, slick and hot. He rolls Draco onto his back and settles over him as his hands pulls at Draco’s clothes. He tries the buttons, but quickly loses patience and yanks at the cloth instead, seams ripping and buttons flying.

“Be careful, you absolute beast. This shirt’s designer.” Draco shoves half-heartedly at Harry's chest before pulling him close again. ”It’s well documented that you have no fashion sense, but please have some respect for those of us who do.” The last words are nearly lost against Harry’s lips.

“You’re infuriating,” Harry growls into Draco’s mouth. The harsh words at odds with the gentle kisses he places across Draco’s jaw.

Harry shoves Draco’s shirt off his shoulders, drags the trousers down his legs and pulls off his socks, one after the other.

When only Draco’s knickers are left, Harry is on him again. The sheets rustle as he settles between Draco’s spread thighs.

Draco wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, lining up their hips until their cocks are perfectly aligned. He loops his arms around Harry’s shoulders and threads his fingers through Harry’s thick hair as he pants against Harry’s neck and Harry grinds his cock against Draco with intent. 

“Harder,” Draco demands, heels digging into Harry’s back to spur him on. ”Come on, Potter, put your back into it.” He buries his face in Harry’s neck, breathing in the rich, earthy scent of his skin and hair.

“Are you really always a prat?” Harry asks, eyes darkened with lust, lips parted. He looks at Draco like he’s covered in treacle tart, so Draco doesn’t mind the insult overly much.

“I think you know I am.” He smirks back at Harry, digging his heels into his arse.

Harry slides lower, rough hands gliding along Draco’s ribs, and his lips drift over Draco’s chest and belly.

He gasps and trembles as Harry's breath ghosts over the tip of Draco’s cock.

Harry mouths over the lacy material, tongue and breath hot, and Draco lifts his head to watch but the sight is almost too much and he drops back on the pillow again with a sharp inhale.

“I like these,” Harry says, his hands sliding over Draco’s lacy-clad arse. “So pretty. So fucking hot.” He presses kisses to the inside of Draco’s thigh. “I bet you have a lot of pretty things, don’t you? How many pairs of lacy knickers do you own, Draco?”

Draco gasps as Harry pulls at the band of his knickers and his mouth slip-slides over the tip of his cock.

“Oh — oh fucking hell,” Draco groans.

Harry runs his hands over the soft material again and hums, as he gathers the precome leaking at the slit of Draco’s cock with his tongue. He grips and tugs at the lace, sliding it down Draco’s legs until the knickers are left dangling off one of Draco's feet.

Harry lightly teases Draco’s balls and Draco bends one knee to grant him better access. 

He’s so immersed in the feel of Harry’s mouth and skin against his own that he’s caught off guard by the cooling sensation of a cleaning and protection charm. 

Harry moves lower, his nose bumping against Draco’s balls as he licks a long wet stripe before sliding down even lower and pressing his tongue directly against his hole.

He strokes a gentle finger over Draco’s hole, teasing his rim as he pushes barely inside. When Harry presses in deeper, rubbing against his prostate, Draco whimpers. 

Draco’s balls tighten and he’s close, his cock dripping wet with precome. He’s so keyed up, he knows he won’t need much. 

He reaches for his cock, but Harry bats his hands away.

“Fuck, Harry, please,” Draco sobs, trembling from head to toe. “I want to come.” 

Harry makes a satisfied sound and lifts Draco’s leg higher. He grips Draco’s arse cheeks, spreading them wide as he licks another broad stripe from Draco’s hole up to his balls. 

“A little more. That’s all I need. Fuck, you cruel bastard.” He tugs at Harry’s hair in desperation, but Harry just laughs deep and throaty against Draco’s arse and keeps licking.

“Not yet,” Harry mumbles and presses his tongue into Draco’s arse again. 

“Please,” he mewls, voice breaking with a whine.

“You’re doing so good. Just a little more,” Harry says, punctuating his words with a gentle bite to the curve of Draco’s arsecheek. 

“Yes. Fuck,” Draco whimpers. His cock bobs against his belly, leaving a sticky wet line of precome on his skin.  
“Not yet,” Harry says. “I want to feel you come with me inside you. Want to feel you shaking apart,” he says.

Draco hears the whisper of a spell and he thrusts back against Harry's hand when he feels Harry’s fingers, wet and warm and slick, slide into him.

“Almost there. You’re being so good for me,” Harry mumbles against the sensitive skin of Draco’s inner thigh. His free hand glides over Draco’s hip and Draco let’s the sound of Harry's voice wash over him, stretching and preening beneath his touch.

“I’ll tell you when you can come,” Harry promises. 

He grips the base of Draco’s cock and it helps. Draco’s still really fucking aroused, but with Harry’s tight grip around him, he no longer feels like he might lose control. 

Draco grabs both of his legs under his knees and spreads himself as wide as possible as Harry’s slippery fingers fuck slow and gentle into his hole.

“Fucking hell,” he gasps. “You’re trying to kill me. You really are a perfect fuck. I knew you would be.”

“Do you think about me much, Draco?” Harry asks. 

“I'm only thinking about what a pervert you are, Potter.”

“If anyone’s a pervert it’s you,” Harry says, nipping at Draco’s inner thigh. “You never did tell me what you were doing, wanking in my bed.”

Draco will never admit that this all started with a dare.

Harry sits up and hastily finishes undressing himself. He pulls Draco up and onto his lap. Draco’s on his knees again, thighs spread wide around Harry’s hips. His fingers tremble against Harry’s shoulder where he’s gripping him tight. He can’t help but shift forward so their cocks bump against each other, aiming for whatever amount of friction he can get. 

Harry palms Draco’s arse. He slaps it, sharply, once as they move together, their cocks sliding against one another in a smooth glide.

Draco’s eyes fall closed and he moans at the swat, pushing his arse back into Harry’s grip.

“Like that, do you?” Harry gives another good swat to Draco's arse. “I wonder what else you like...”

He grabs Draco’s wrists and pins them behind his back. Draco grinds against Harry and lets his head fall back on another moan as he bucks against Harry’s hold and considers what it says about him that he enjoys it so much when Harry takes charge. 

“Fucking-fuck, Potter. Fuck me already,” Draco says with a lusty groan.

“If I’m going to fuck you, don’t you think you should call me Harry?”

Draco pushes Harry onto his back, grabs his cock, and positions himself over it. He sits back until Harry’s cock slides through the slick-wetness between his cheeks and then guides it to nudge against his hole. It presses him open, slowly pushing in as Draco sinks down.

Thighs spread wide and knees digging into the bed on either side of Harry’s hips, Draco pants out heavy breaths as he grows accustomed to the thickness of Harry’s cock. 

He catches Harry’s piercing gaze as he slowly lifts his hips again. He slides up Harry’s length until only the tip of his dick is inside him. Then he sinks back down until his arse is pressed to Harry’s balls.

“Fuck, Draco — so good. Fucking perfect,” Harry pants, wild eyed. His hands grip tight around Draco’s waist as Draco trembles above him.

“You can move. Fuck me.” 

Harry looks crazed, but he takes a deep breath and hums his approval. He raises his knees, bracing his heels against the bed as he pulls back slowly, then pushes all the way back in. He moves and settles into a steady rhythm.

Draco shifts his hips. The change in angle ensures that Harry’s cock presses against his prostate with every thrust of his hips.

Draco’s breathless, panting as Harry thrusts up into him. “Don’t stop, Potter.”

“You really should call me Harry — especially with my cock in your arse.” Harry punctuates his statement with another strong thrust of his hips.

Another stinging slap hits Draco's arse and Draco’s dick twitches.

“I need to come. Please,” he pleads.

“Yes, fuck,” Harry grunts, his body wrought with tension.

Their hands meet on Draco’s cock, wrapping around his length in tandem, and it’s enough. It only takes two pulls before Draco's balls are drawing up.

Harry’s hand slides up Draco’s chest, fingers and thumb pinching Draco’s left nipple and sending sparks of arousal up his spine.

“Going to come in you,” Harry says hips pulsing. 

“Fuck, yes — do it.” Draco rolls his hips as Harry pushes up into him. The world narrows down to a white hot point of pleasure as he comes undone. His hole squeezes around Harry’s cock as ropes of his come decorate Harry’s stomach.

Draco drifts in the aftermath of his orgasm as Harry grabs Draco’s arse, palming his cheeks and guiding his movements. He pulls Draco closer, burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck as his hips move up, up, up, in short, quick thrusts. When Harry comes, Draco can feel his dick twitch inside him.

After a long moment with their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air, Harry slowly pulls out, reaches for his wand, and casts a series of cleaning spells over them both.

Draco slides off Harry’s lap and wonders if he should leave — it’s not like he was invited into Harry’s bed — but Harry grabs hold of him, with a strong arm wrapped around his waist and pulls him close. 

“Do you have somewhere to be — or can you stay?” Harry’s fingers trail softly over the bruise on Draco’s wrist. “I think I could get used to you in my bed — if you’re amenable.”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” Draco says. 

“Besides, I’m still hoping you’ll show me your collection of fancy knickers.” Harry places a kiss between Draco’s shoulder blades.

Snuggled up in bed together, their legs tangled, Draco twines their fingers together as well and smiles. He grips Harry’s hand tighter as his eyes fall closed and he sinks into the warmth of Harry’s embrace. 

“Goodnight, _Harry_ ,” he whispers before he drifts off to sleep.


	2. ART for A Perfectly Valid Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 features the art only from our collab! ♥

  
  



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